Ruffians and Renegades
by Auto School Dropout
Summary: When a squadron of Autobots is captured during a battle for Iacon, Optimus Prime enlists the help of the Wreckers and a group of Jazz's Spec Ops to stage a rescue mission to free them. Springer is less than pleased, but his dutiful SIC makes them take the job anyway. Rated for light torture, adult themes, and Jazz's behavior
1. Chapter 1

_Authors' Note:_

 **Auto:** Hey kids. Please don't barbecue us. We kind of hit a dead end with Birds of a Feather, and are talking about perhaps reworking it. Ninja and I kinda barged into that story without any sort of foresight and well, it kinda kicked our butts in the end. We were both talking over Skype and agreed that since we were really just becoming stagnant writers, we should do a short collab piece to get ourselves back in gear. So here we are, bringing for your viewing pleasure, Ruffians and Renegades.

 **Ninja:** You can call me Edge Lord cause I'm dead inside. Um, I mean, I haven't written anything in five months and I thought I'd forget how to write if I didn't get something done.

 _ **We do not own Transformers in any shape or form. This is purely a fan work and we make no money off it. Shadow Stalker is the Intellectual Property of Autobotschic. Amalga is the intellectual property of Ninja School Dropout.**_

* * *

Shadow Stalker dislodged her sword from yet another Decepticon, the scowl that had settled on her features earlier only growing deeper. The slaggers were everywhere. It was getting on her nerves just how many of them seemed to have appeared out of nowhere to attack Iacon. This was her city slag it, and they were not touching her home. Not over her cold, grey frame.

"Commander! We're surrounded!" one of her troops cried out, nursing a sparking and lacerated arm.

"That just means we can attack in all directions," she hissed under her breath, armor flared out and wings fluttering in aggravation. She would be the absolute last one to admit this was going terribly.

The femme jumped back into the fray, activating the shield on her forearm and brandishing her longsword in the other. A hideous snarl ripped from her throat as she slashed at a Con advancing on one of her wounded, quickly dispatching him with a huff.

"C'mon, get up and move to the center of the group," Shadow Stalker instructed, throwing up her shield as another Con jumped at them. With their weapon lodged in her shield, the unimpressed femme simply sent an electric shock through it to momentarily stun them while she assisted her comrade to their pedes.

"Go, quickly," she stated, turning and engaging with even more fury than before.

The femme twirled and parried with vorns of practice, her helm never once lost sight of her target to force a gap for an escape.

"Commander Shadow Stalker, we're being overwhel-ack!"

The cry sent her spinning as one of her officers was gunned down, the femme's optics widened as she took in to the extent they were buried.

Frag. _Frag frag frag_.

They needed reinforcements and they needed it now, but she knew that was not happening, not with the armies heavily set at the gateways.

A burning sensation in her side violently ripped her from her train of thought, glancing down at the graze mark from a laser. Those glitches, they'd pay for that.

Shadow threw herself back into the fight, but her stamina was running out and there were just too many. She may have been a gladiator, but one could only take so many rushing at every angle for so long.

Someone slashed the back of her knee and the femme crumpled. She lurched with a snarl, trying to stand again before being forced down, this time with a blaster shoved roughly to each side of her helm. A sneering con extended a blade forward, using it to tilt the Autobot's chin up to meet the other's optics.

Optics she'd hoped to meet again in a fight that ended in the other's slaughter, not like this.

"Plasma," Shadow snarled, antennae pinned back. The glitch that stood in front of her used to be the Fight Coordinator at the Gladiator Pits. The one who ultimately pitted Shadow Stalker against Aquarunner and forced the young femme to kill her loved one.

"Oh, look at this. Ironblazer will be so pleased to get his pet back," Plasma crooned, the femme cackling as she tossed her head back. When her fit subsided, she tilted her head and observed her prize. Who seemed to be whispering something.

"Speak up," the con snapped irritably, optics narrowing.

Shadow Stalker's voice raised slightly, but still not enough to decipher the muttering.

"I said, speak up!" Plasma hissed, bringing her faceplates down to Shadow's level.

The Con had less than a half a klik to register the grin on Shadow Stalker's face before she lurched forward and head butted the other.

Plasma reeled back with a screech, pressing her digits to her crumpled nose. It gushed Energon, which trickled down her face in a constant stream.

"I said, rot in the smelting pits," Shadow Stalker sneered, optics ablaze with dark glee.

Plasma's startled face was the last thing the Autobot Commander saw before something collided with the back of her helm and her world went black.

* * *

Amalga glared at the large green and yellow back in front of her, as she carried a huge stack of data pads, having to use her chin to hold the dangerous pile steady. Her commander, Springer, had been called to Iacon to discuss a new mission, and of course the mech thought, "Why not bring the reports from the previous mission along as well? It'll be faster to bring them in than sending them electronically!" An idiot is what he was. It was his way of getting back at her for making him do all the reports.

The halls of Iacon's military base was flooded with bots scrambling around trying to repair broken portions of the building while others cleaned scorch marks off the wall. Hall after hall was full of melancholy. Bots slowly did the cosmetic work as other rushed around to get where they were needed most.

"Guess that attack got them short handed." Springer grumbled as he sighed. "Man I hope they aren't gonna ask us to fill in for missing positions. I hate slow work. What do you think, Amalga?"

The femme glanced over to the mech. "I'd imagine whatever it is, it will be important. I don't see much use for us here."

Springer smirked. "Who knows. Maybe the big bad prime needs a scraplet exterminated." He laughed heartily.

Amalga sighed. "He is Prime you know. You should show some respect."

"Ah, I forgot you were the religious type. Primus save the Prime."

Amalga shook her helm. "You're so… you."

"Speaking of me being me. I forgot the passes."

"I have them." Amalga nodded her visored helm to her wrist where two cards hung from chains. "I figured you'd forget."

Springer smiled. "You're the best, you know that?"

"Whatever."

The two came to a stop in front of two guards. One of the guards looked the two over before holding out a servo. "Passes."

Amalga glanced at the large stack of data pads in her servos then to the cards dangling from her wrist. "Springer, a little help would be nice."

Springer carefully took the data pads, allowing her to pass the cards over to the guard. The guard help up the cards, allowing two holograms to flash to life. He looked over the holograms then compared the images to the real life forms before him. He nodded, passing the cards back.

The doors opened wide to a meeting room, two mechs were already there. One shorter mech, black and white, doorwings and a blue visor sat leaning back with his pedes propped up on the table. The other, a red and blue mech, that anybody could identify as Optimus Prime sat professionally at the head of the table.

"Optimus." Springer nodded, setting down the data pads and taking his own seat. "What can I do for you?" He smiled.

Amalga stood behind Springer calmly watching as the meeting began.

Optimus laced his digits together, laying them to rest on the table. "We'll cut to the chase, Springer."

Springer frowned at the slightly out of character mech. "Alright."

"As you know there was a battle here a few orns ago. The Decepticons tried to take control of Iacon. Luckily they were unsuccessful and pushed back by our own troops. During the commotion of pushing them back, however, Shadow Stalker's squadron has gone missing. Soldiers were sent out to investigate. They found signs of combat, but no frames have been recovered. We believe them to be prisoners of war at this point."

Optimus stood up, walking to a window and gazing out of it, his servos held firmly behind his back. "I'll be having Jazz's special operations team and your Wreckers team up in an attempt to recover the lost squad, and their commander."

Springer glanced back at Amalga and sighed. "Sir, with all due respect, this doesn't seem like a mission for the Wreckers. This i-"

"This is an order, Springer." Optimus turned to face Springer. "You are to team up with Jazz and save the squadron."

Jazz smirked. "No point arguin', mech. The mech's not gonna listen. Love's on da line here."

Springer sneered standing up. "So I'm to put my family on the line for your femme? Y-"

Amalga placed a hand on Springer's back. "We also get to frag up some cons, maybe blow up a stronghold."

Springer growled pushing his way out of the room. Amalga sighed. "Consider the Wreckers on the job, Optimus Prime, sir. We will be happy to work with Jazz and his mechs to save your troops." She bowed slightly to the prime before leaving the room, quickly following Springer.

Springer stood resting against the wall, his angry scowl on his face. Amalga stood in front of him. "We'll do what's asked of us." Her visor gleamed against the artificial lighting. "Not to save his femme, but to save a squadron, and destroy a decepticon base."

Springer glared down at the femme. "He doesn't give a frag about those other mechs. All he wants is his precious femme back."

Amalga nodded. "Probably so, but that's not for us to judge."

"So who is going to judge him then? Primus? Ha!" Springer growled. "You need to take that religious slag and stuff it up your tail pipes! Primus isn't going to do slag."

Amalga stared at Springer, her optics keeping contact through the visor. "You need to calm down. I will meet with Jazz to plan our routes and make preparations. You can go get the troops fired up. They work better when they're angry anyways."

Springer sighed. "Amalga, I didn't mea-"

"Don't worry about it." Amalga quickly walked away from Springer, leaving him to his own devices.


	2. Chapter 2

_Authors' Note_

 **Auto:** Hahaa look at that. An on time update. How astonishing. It's totally not because we've already written this whole thing already. Nah. What would make you say that?

 **Ninja:** She's lying. We have the whole thing written.

* * *

Jazz and Springer quietly worked on battle plans as the ships made their way towards their final destination. The peninsula of the sea of rust. Amalga stood in the doorway silently watching the two discuss the battle plans. So far the Wreckers were to act as decoys. They were to rush the Decepticon base head on, giving the special operations soldiers an opportunity to sneak inside and find the missing squadron.

Springer was against the plan. Springer was against all the plans though. Springer was still against the mission. He seemed to be acting as a hurdle rather than a commander. Amalga stepped forward pushing Springer's chair away from hologram of the battlefield. She glanced to Jazz, nodding. "Continue."

"Are ya sure ya should be treatin' ya boss like that?"

"He is acting like a youngling, so he'll be treated like one. I am more than capable of doing his job for him." Amalga motioned back to the battle simulator. "Carry on."

"Ah'm just not sure a secretary sho-"

Amalga held up a servo. "I am no secretary. I am Amalga Forge, Second in command of the Wreckers. Please carry on with the simulation, and explanation of the battle strategy."

"Ah'm sorry ah-"

"Please carry on."

Jazz nodded. "Like ah was tryin' to tell ya youngling, the wreckers' job will be easy. Ya just gotta distract the cons long enough for us ta get in, and get out with the squadron."

"What about finding Shadow Stalker and the squadron? Do we know where exactly they are in the base?" Amalga brought up a hologram of the base's layout.

Jazz shook his helm. "We got a pretty good idea, but nothin' solid." Jazz zoomed in on the map, circling a large portion. "We think the squadron is gonna be here. Somewhere."

Amalga gave a short nod. "The squadron will be quite large. We'll have difficulty keeping all the cons distracted long enough to extract them all. The cons are not stupid. We can send some fire power with you. We can spare the mechs."

"Tha would be helpful." Jazz smiled. "Who ya gonna send?"

"Springer will take care of the distraction out front, I will come with you. I'll bring Cowlder and Diatron. The rest of the Wreckers will help Springer."

Springer stood up walking to the simulation. "Diatron will be too large. He'll make too much noise."

"Ah, I suppose so." Amalga exhaled. "Perhaps Liodine."

Springer shook his head, "He's got a happy trigger digit. He can't hold himself back well enough."

"Then who?" Amalga turned to Springer.

Springer slowly tapped his chin. "Brose? He's small, and pretty stealthy. Just don't make him laugh. He's a loud laugher."

"He laughs easily though." Amalga sighed. "I once told him that I meditated and he laughed for joors."

"That's because it's stupid to meditate. He'll be fine."

Amalga nodded. "Fine. Cowlder, Brose and I will go with Jazz."

"And I'll keep the cons distracted." Springer smiled. "Sounds like a Wrecker's plan."

"Wreck and Rule." Amalga smiled behind her visor.

"Wreck 'N Rule." Springer yelled.

Jazz smiled. "I ain't got nothin' catchy to say."

"I forgot you were here anyways." Springer laughed.

* * *

Shadow Stalker's frame shuddered to life, optics onlining and focusing to the dark room. Well, one of them anyway. The other was shattered in its socket. No biggie, compared to what the rest of the femme's battered frame looked like.

She shifted, instantly hissing as a result of the pain radiating through her. It was quickly shoved to the back of her mind, as her top priority at the moment was trying to figure out why the sudden change in scenery. For orns they had kept her in a prison cell, chained by every means necessary to the walls. Now she was in an isolated room, suspended from the ceiling. Both of her servos were in high security engulfment cuffs, her pedes tied loosely together and dangling beneath her.

The femme wiggled, testing just how much room she had to move around as she was already aware of how strong the cuffs were. Her wiggles only resulted in the smallest bit of sway, which meant if someone hit her hard enough, her arms could easily dislocate. Not like it was an issue enough that she could barely stand with her knee practically severed.

A door slid open, and Shadow lurched away from the harsh light as it stung her senses. In stepped two burly looking Cons. They said not a word, and instead sidestepped to each take a side of the doorway in which two more figures formed. She didn't need to be a psychic to know who was coming in next.

"Oh look, she's awake again. How delightful," Plasma chided gleefully. The Autobot shuddered, shaking her head and drawing her lips back in a snarl.

The action was rewarded with her mech companion lurching forward, striking Shadow across the face with the back of his palm. She reeled back, antennae shooting forward momentarily before pinning themselves back again.

"That's not how I taught you to behave," Ironblazer crooned darkly, taking Shadow's chin in his hand and forcing her helm down to meet his optics. Ice blue met blazing orange, the two locked in a stare down.

"Exactly. I'm not your pet anymore, you slum slagger. Those days are long gone," the Autobot growled, nose crinkling.

"You could have been my greatest gladiator, and yet here you are. Weak, a disappointment, and an _Autobot_. Your precious Prime probably thinks the same of you, doesn't he? Or else he would have surely saved you by now," his words might as well cut the femme with a blade, her reaction was to physically jerk back. It was a stab right to her spark.

"I am reliant on no one to save me," Shadow Stalker's words were dangerously sharp and snippet.

"No, but you love, so you might as well be," Ironblazer countered, pulling a knife from his subspace and pressing it to her mouth. He tilted his helm, motioning for Plasma to move forward to his side. "She looks a bit pent up, don't you think?"

"Maybe we should give her something to..smile about," Plasma stated, taking a digit and tracing a line up from the corner of Shadow's mouth to her shattered optic, pressing on the open wound. It caused the other to snarl, lashing out and attempting to bite the Con.

The purple femme stepped back, tsking. "I think she needs to learn a lesson."

"Let us instruct her, then," Ironblazer chuckled, a devilish little smile coming to his face as he reeled his fist back, letting it collide with Shade's jaw.

She felt the Energon flood her mouth, and spit it out as soon as she brought her helm back to center. Her tongue traveled over the open wound inside of her mouth, Energon still flowing steadily from it. Shadow Stalker drew her lips back in a twisted, fanged smile.

"Is that the best you can do?"

* * *

Amalga sat crouched within a group of ten or so other mechs. Jazz sat at the head of the group, smashing himself as close to the wall as he could. They were waiting for the signal to break into the base. Springer had assured them they would know it when they felt it. Amalga had a pretty good idea what it was going to be.

Jazz jumped as a large explosion shook the ground below them. "Fraggin' -"

"That would be the signal." Amalga muttered nodding to Jazz. "We go now."

Jazz nodded quickly activating a small blow torch, melting through the wall, opening up a large enough hole for the group to be able crawl through. Amalga crouched through the hole, rushing over to the opposite wall and peeking around the corner. Guards stood along the wall, each door seemed to have two guards each. Nothing stuck out as a prison. There were no extra guards around any of the doors.

The cons were far smarter than even Amalga had given them credit for. The constant explosions shaking the building via Springer's group had only gotten the cons to pull from their reserve units. Most of the guards had stayed where they were posted. A few had seemed to be called, but not enough to make much of a difference.

Jazz's group didn't seem worried by this fact. Amalga on the other servo was. This wasn't like her usual missions. It wasn't a simple "Destroy everything, leave nothing alive no matter the cost" mission. It was a rescue mission. "Save everybody, leave no friendly offline."

Jazz motioned to Amalga, with a smile he pointed up. Amalga angled her helm so she was looking straight up. An air vent was directly above her. She glanced back over to Jazz a frown hidden effectively by her visor. Jazz only smiled bigger, pointing to himself and a few others then back to the vent. He pointed to Amalga and the rest of the small unit, and then to the hallway full of guards.

Amalga nodded with a smile. She could do this. Her job was to clear potential exit routes. Simple. No con is to be left alive on any of the escape routes.

Amalga stepped into the middle of the hallway, immediately guns were pointed at her. "I am Amalga Forge!" She yelled, bringing out her spear, jamming the end onto the ground as the energy blade formed at the top. "I will take no pleasure ending in your lives! May Primus have mercy on your sparks!"

Bullets began to fly.

With smooth motions Amalga rushed forward, activating a small shield on her arm to deflect energy blasts and bullets as her own comrades behind her shot at the eight or so guards. Cover fire whizzed past her audials. Amalga deactivated her shield and planted both servos solidly on the on the staff. With as much force as she could muster, she thrusted her spear forward right into the helm of one of the guards. She quickly rushed forward using the spear to sweep the feet out from under another guard, stomping down on his neck as soon as he hit the ground.

"Reloading!" One of the mechs behind her shouted. She quickly backed up, activated her shield as the mech reloaded a cartridge. "Thanks."

Amalga nodded as another group of guards rounded the corner Immediately to be mowed down.

Amalga slowly turned around, a small sentry turret stood proudly next to a mech flashing the small group a thumbs up. "Commander Amalga, you'll never believe what I found in my subspace."

"Cowlder, who gave you that?"

The mech just flashed her a smile. "I'll keep watch here, you guys go on ahead. Clear the path."

Amalga nodded. "Understood."

* * *

Shadow Stalker shuddered, biting back a muted cry as Ironblazer slashed one of her wings. They were by far her most sensitive appendages, and these two sadistic glitches were not above using that to their advantage.

The cell suddenly heaved and quaked, the far off sound of an explosion reaching the damaged femme's audials. Her helm lifted, optic flickering as her spirits lifted. The initial explosion was followed by more, and the sounds of combat slowly drifted into range.

"Frag it!" Plasma hissed, stomping a pede on the ground as the call for any occupied troops to report for duty.

"This is almost certainly a rescue mission. We can't let them have her, not yet," Ironblazer snarled, the mech tensing up as another explosion rocked the facility. He prowled over to Shadow, digging his digits into her jaw. "I'll be back, my little pet."

He dropped her chin, the femme growling softly as they left the room. The guards remained, watching over her. She made a face at them, which quickly turned to mild interest as screeching and blaster fire suddenly filled the corridor.

"I'm going out," one of the guards stated, already typing in the passcode.

"No, you can't! They ordered two of us to be here at all times!" the other guard snarled, shoving his partner roughly.

"Listen, all the fun is out there. I'm going out, complain to someone else about it," he huffed, stalking out the door and leaving the other behind. Interest effectively killed for the moment, Shadow glanced up at her secured servos.

"Don't even try it, Bot. Not even Optimus would be able escape those," the remaining guard spat. Shadow eyed him wearily, suddenly noticing how..sharp and pointy he was looking.

She opened her mouth, mumbling something softly. He, unlike Plasma, apparently had no tolerance for mumblers. The guard marched right over, jamming his blaster into her abdomen.

"Speak up, brat!"

Shadow lifted her helm, optic flashing deviously as she opened her mouth. "Gotcha."

She swung herself forward, wrapping her legs around him and yanking roughly. The rope snapped, effectively freeing her pedes. She quickly adjusted, leaning back as she ripped the guard's arm back right as he pulled the trigger, shooting at the servo containment unit. It crippled after a few blasted, enough Shadow could swing down and wrestle the blaster from the other.

With a final yank, she pulled it free, quickly dispatching him as her attention turned to the remaining unit. The Commander reached up, pressing it against the seam and firing. It released, causing her to crash to the ground with a cry.

She took a few moments to regain herself, shaking her helm. "Why do they always fall for that," the femme grumbled to herself, inching her way up the wall.

A few shaky steps were taken, then the rest more steady as she relied heavily on the wall to keep her balanced. The taste of was freedom so close.

Shadow Stalker reached the doorway right as it opened, the startled guard meeting her very deadpanned expression. "Yeah, bud, not today."

He quickly joined his partner on the floor, the two sharing matching bullet holes in their helms. She cast a disdainful expression their way before entering out into the prison cell area. They could have at least sent her a challenge.

The sound of her staggered footsteps must have raised a few helms, as Cybertronians of all kinds stood in their cells and made their way forward. All she was looking for was a familiar face.

"Commander Shadow Stalker?"

Ah, there it was. She turned her helm, trying to find the voice. Her missing optic made the task much more difficult as she limped along, finally finding one of her troops pressed up against the bars of their cell.

"C'mon Helix, I need you now," she muttered, pressing the blaster to the combination pad and blowing it. The door scraped open, the skittish mech stepping out and instantly looping himself under the larger femme to act as a crutch. He seemed to be much better off than she was.

"Where's the rest of the squadron?" Shadow asked, making her way, with his help, over to the main control panel.

"They're here too, somewhere...Most of them," Helix murmured, the mech shivering briefly.

Shadow tried to move past the fact there was absolutely no way she should have expected her whole Squadron to make it out alive, but a glimmer of hope still resided in her spark. Her wings twitched, the femme instantly regretting the motion as she began typing on the pad. She went through the directory of prisoners, making note of the names that were hers and what cells they were in.

Slowly, cell door after cell door began to shudder open and her troops made their way out to gather around her Commander. Shadow Stalker devoted her whole attention to her project, when a grinding noise slammed into her audials, causing the femme to wince as she turned. The main door to the prison was opening.

Without hesitation, she readied the blaster in her servos, crosshairs on the door as her soldiers shifted restlessly around her. Whatever was coming, they were ready.

* * *

Amalga stabbed her spear down into the spark chamber of another mech. With a sigh she glanced around the hall. It was littered with fallen Decepticons. Most of them looked like vehicons of some sort. "Commander Amalga."

She glanced back at the silver mech. "Yeah?"

"We've cleared escape routes 1-3. The last one is four, but…"

"But?"

"Commander Springer collapsed the hallway with one of his explosions."

Amalga sighed. "Does he have no control at all?" Amalga brought up a map finding the collapsed hallway. "We can go around that hallway, but it goes through the center of the base. Maybe it'll be best to mark that route off the list. Update Jazz. Tell him escape route four is a no go."

"Yes mam!"

Jazz slowly crawled through the vents His mechs and him being as silent as possible. When it made it to another vent he glanced through the grates. He cursed silently at the familiar heavy framed mech down below shouting orders to various mechs around him. Soon the other mechs cleared out. Jazz smirked. He moved his frame around to face the other mechs and pointed down. The mechs nodded, readying their pistols.

Jazz kicked down the vent leaping down, and landing on the other mech's helm. He smirked as static echoed out of the mech's mouth and his optics flashed offline. "Ya should be lucky, Ironblazer, if ah was Shadow, ya'd be dead." He crouched down, flicking the devil horn like crest on the side of the mech's helm. He snickered as he pulled out an energon blade and slowly cut one of the horn like crests off the mech. "Hope ya weren't attached to that."

Jazz motioned for the other mechs to come down. "Sir, news from Amalga's group."

Jazz nodded. "Let meh have it."

"Escape route four has been collapsed from explosions. It is no longer a viable path." The mech pulled up the map for Jazz to look over.

Jazz frowned. That was the closest route out of the building. "Tell the femme we'll be usin' route two." He glanced again at the map and pointed to one of the doors. "Intel says the prison is this way." He snickered, hot wiring the door open. "Here's to mah good luck." He flashed the group of mechs behind him a smile as the doors slid open.

"If you take one more fragging step I'm going to slag every one of your-Jazz?"

Jazz glanced up at the femme. "Heya." He glanced back at the rest of his mechs with a huge smile. "Mah luck saves us again!"

Shadow Stalker blinked, lowering the blaster as her antennae and wings perked. "Well, for once it's a relief to see your face," she shot at him with a playful smile, the dried and crusted Energon framing the corners of her lips cracking with the movement.

"That's not cool." Jazz frowned. "Ah'll have ya know, mah squad had to work with ruffians ta save ya." He offered Shadow Stalker a polishing cloth. "Clean ya self up. Yer face is makin' meh sick."

"Rude," Shadow snarked back, moving towards the mech. How terrible her condition was became much more apparent as she was relying almost entirely on Helix for support now. The femme took the polishing rag from the long time friend, wiping her face with it gently. "Ruffians you say? Oh Primus, please don't tell me Optimus sent the Wreckers in with you guys. They'll collapse the whole place on us," she groaned, offering the rag back to the other.

"Ya mech is a worrier." Jazz offered his arm to take some of the weight off Helix's shoulders. "Where's the rest of ya mechs? We gotta meet up with the rest of the group."

"That he is," the femme mused, adjusting herself to hang between the two mechs. "They're probably still in here somewhere. I was going through the prison directory and releasing the cells to the corresponding names but didn't finish due to your grand arrival. It's right over here-hrrk!" She had moved forward and off the mechs, temporarily forgetting her legs were not suited to take her weight. The Commander collapsed into a pile on the floor, huffing indignantly.

"Shadow!" Jazz grunted as the femme fell.

She pulled herself into a sitting position to pout, before scaling Jazz again (despite the mech being shorter) like a climbing wall. "As I was saying," she cleared her throat, hoping it would work for her embarrassment as well. "It's over there. I left off on Straightshot so there's ten names still on that roster."

Jazz motioned for one of his mechs to come over. "Take care of her injuries best ya can." He passed the femme over to the other mech. "Shadow, list off the names, so ah can finish up what ya started." He walked over to the console and quickly found the logs again.

Shadow nodded, tilting back her helm as she recalled those still missing. "Convoy, Talontwitch, Barrage, Depthdive, Torrent, Ricochet, Skyrunner, Havoc, Magna and Voltage."

Jazz quickly typed in the names, opening the respective cells as fast as his digits would type on the keyboards. "Ya think they'll know where ta come?" Jazz asked as he deleted the records of the cells openning.

The femme's brow furrowed at the cell doors opened, and all but two helms cautiously poked out. She turned, counting what of her squadron was currently gathered around her. There were still some missing.

"They housed us all together. They should all be here, but I'm missing seven of them…" she trailed off, jaw clenching. Shadow turned to Jazz, looking for assistance. "Can you check the open cells for them?"

Jazz nodded, walking down the row of cells. He glanced into the first one and bit his bottom lip at the sight of the already graying frame. Shadow wasn't going to like that. She probably wasn't going to like the other ones either. He walked on to the next cell. Two mechs hung from the wall. Neither were graying, yet, but both were heavily losing energon. "We got two of 'em in here! We need a medic!" He called out as he carried on to the next cells.

The next cell had another grayed frame along with another heavily injured mech. "Medic in here too!" Jazz yelled out, moving on to the next. He rushed to the next cell. "Medic here as well!" He pushed past an incoming medic to check the last cell.

Another grayed frame met his gaze. With a sigh, he walked out of the cell, making his way, slowly, back to Shadow Stalker. He crouched down next to the femme. "Three offline, four heavily wounded."

The Commander met his optics for a moment, before hers resettled on the group and a sharp vent escaped her vocals chords. The mech working on patching her wounds jumped at the sudden noise, and she shot him an idly side glance. She was beyond aggravated with herself, but nothing could be done now. "I suppose taking the frames is out of the question, we've probably already wasted too much time," Shadow murmured, servos balling into fists. The movement sent a warning wave of pain through her systems, which she acknowledged with a hiss and uncurled the damaged digits.

Before Jazz could reply to Shadow Stalker a mech ran forward. "Sir, Amalga's team commed in. Route two is clear, but they said it won't be clear for long. We have to move."

Jazz nodded. He walked over to the cells and took a deep breath, "Patch up only enough to get those mech moving! We gotta be quick!" Jazz ran back over to Shadow Stalker, positioning her arm around his shoulder. "We can't take the frames but we can get Amalga ta do some prayin'. Ah think that's her thang."

"My able frames, give these mechs a servo. You heard him, we need to get moving, now!" the femme called out, watching her bots scatter off to assist in any way possible. Shadow quirked an eyebrow at Jazz's statement, her attention going to him. "Do some praying? Her thing? I didn't know the Wreckers were hiring Priestesses now," she snorted, shaking her helm. "Primus help that sorry spark. She got dealt a real left hook there."

Jazz snorted. "She's the sub commander of the wreckers apparently." He began moving forward. "She's the one clearing the escape routes while ah came and saved ya sorry aft."

"How long have I been here, holy frag," Shadow muttered to herself, remaining optic narrowed as she tried to sort that whole thing out. "Well I'll thank her then when we get there. You, on the other hand, are just jealous that my aft's finer than yours," she shot back, giving him a playful peck on the cheek.

"Prowler says mah aft is the best. He's got logic on his side." Jazz brought up the map as they came to a crossway of halls. "And ah'm not sure ya gonna get any your welcomes from the femme. She seems a bit reserved."

"Tell you what, we'll have an aft judging competition when we get back...Where do they even get these Wreckers anymore, she's probably out of her mind with bots like Springer and fragging Whirl driving her up the wall," the femme mused, staring at the map. It might've been just to make herself feel useful seeing as she was essentially just dead weight at the moment.

"Ah think her an' Springer are together, if ya feel what I'm putting down." Jazz muttered as he deactivated the map, and took the left corridor. The sounds of fighting grew closer, echoing from the down the hall. Jazz jumped as a mech went flying into the wall beside him, spear sticking out of his helm. "Holy frag." He sighed. "That almost hit meh!" He yelled down the hall.

Shadow Stalker's antennae flew forward as the scene unfolded in front of her, the Commander letting out a colorful string of curses before she settled back down on the Saboteur's shoulder. "That hurt. Fragging pits," she hissed, massaging her damaged leg.

Jazz glanced over to Shadow. "You okay?" He asked the femme as he walked over to the mech laying against the wall, spear hanging out of his optic. He made a disgusted face as he turned back to the direction they were going.

"Can you throw that back?" Amalga's voice echoed down the hall. "Try not to hit any of us though!"

Jazz sighed, pulling the spear out of the mech's optic. "Gross. Can priestesses even murder people? Is that a thing they're allowed to do?" He mumbled throwing the spear blindly down the hall.

"Terrible form," Shadow quipped, supporting herself against a wall as she peeked down the hall at the fun on the other side.

"Who even uses those thangs anymore?" Jazz pouted as the sounds of combat slowly died down.

"Apparently Wrecker Priestesses."

"It's clear!" a voice echoed down the hall.

"Time ta go." Jazz smiled offering an arm to Shadow Stalker.

"Why thank you my kind Knight," she jived, taking the offered arm and adjoining shoulder all to herself. Maybe she'd have to rub it into Prowl later for the pit of it.

Jazz led the femme down the hallway, frames littered the area. A few Autobots nodded to the two as they worked their way through, followed by a posse of injured and medics.

Amalga stood at the exit. She nodded to Jazz as he dragged Shadow Stalker out of the blown out wall leading to the outside. "I'm glad you made it back, and achieved your goal."

"Is this the Amalga femme then?" Shadow asked, shielding her optic as they stepped outside. Freedom, finally. She turned her attention to the other femme and dipped her helm. "I'd shake your servo but everything hurts and I really just want to get the pit outta this area."

Amalga simply nodded, motioning her servos in the direction of the ship. "Medics are on board waiting for you and your squadron. They aren't used to live patients, so please be patient."

"How reassuring," the Commander muttered under her breath, craning her helm back to look at her men. "Those four from the cells are first. Everyone else is after them, I don't even care if you're complaining of a helm ache. My bots understand?"

Amalga stared at Shadow Stalker through her visor. The Wreckers had their own wounded to attend to as well. "The Wrecker's medics will get to them. If their conditions are more serious than the others who have risked their lives to save you, then we'll take care of them first. I may remind you as well that the Wreckers are not under the command of you. We answer directly to the Prime. That is the only reason we're here, Commander Shadow Stalker."

Shadow turned her full attention to the femme now, the large femme subconsciously drawing herself up despite all the warnings that flashed through her. "You spit fire, youngling. It's a good trait to have and we'll discuss the extent of it later. Right now I have four clinging to life, and I refuse to lose any more of my Squadron to preventable mistakes. I would greatly appreciate it if they are tended to immediately."

She shifted, frame hitching as a sharp stab of pain ran through her, clawed digits accidentally digging into Jazz as she steadied herself. "Those four and then you Wreckers."

"As I said before, the medics are on the ship. They will tend to whomever needs help the most. Be patient. I'd also appreciate you not putting lives in front of other lives. We're all equal, nobody is more important than others." Amalga motioned ahead to the ship. "If it so happens a wreckers life is in more jeopardy than one of your squadron's they will be dealt with first, and by the way, we are not 'you Wreckers'. We're the ones who do the missions you Autobots are too scared to do. Please keep that in mind." Amalga turned walking back to the ship before Shadow Stalker could say anything in return. She needed to meditate.

A growl reverberated through Shadow before she had the chance to catch it. "Helix," she called softly, looking for the red and yellow mech. He appeared by her side, worry clouding his face. "See to it those four get to the medics stat."

"Yes, Commander," he murmured, hurrying off to assist the rest on the ship.

The femme shuddered, glancing out over the battle zone. "Guess we better get moving before this escalates any more."

Jazz nodded. "Ah guess. It's just gonna be another battle on that ship though." He sighed. "Apparently. It didn't hafta be ya know." Jazz started helping Shadow Stalker forward. "Ya coulda kept ya mouth shut. Amalga kinda reminded meh of Prowl when he gets upset. Can priestesses curse bots?"

"Since when have you ever known me to keep my mouth shut?" Shadow snorted, a smirk flashing on her features momentarily. "Besides, I'll just dump myself off somewhere and recharge the rest of the fragging flight if I have to. I'm too exhausted to argue with uppity anybodies."

The femme paused at the cursing question, tilting her helm. "Curse as in like curse out or curse in like that mumbo jumbo slag scrap of 'because you have crossed me your family will suffer the worst of fate'?"

"She's gonna curse us to have bad luck fer all eternity!" Jazz yelled. He smirked at Shadow Stalker.

"I already have the worst of luck and I'm pretty sure if you mix two things of bad luck it's good luck, right? So bring on the curses," the femme jived, shaking her helm with a grin.

"By the way, Springer didn't want ta mess with this. The Wreckers are only here cause Amalga made Springer take the job. Ya'd still be in there and probably woulda lost more mechs if it wasn't for her." Jazz sighed.

Her mood returned to the somber state upon listening to Springer's decision.

"That doesn't surprise me with Springer. And while I may be thankful, you especially know I have a hard time showing it," Shadow tilted her helm back, staring at the ceiling of the ship.

Jazz sighed. "All ah'm gonna request is ya give Amalga a shot. Ya were kinda rude to her, so ah can see why she acted all cold with ya. Don't hold it against her. She means well. Ah think."

"Perhaps I was. I just feel..off," she murmured, glancing away. "I guess that's not really a justifiable reason either. Maybe a few joors in my own berth will help settle my nerves."

"Ya're gonna have to deal with bunking with meh! Yer own berth is quite a ways away." Jazz flashed Shadow Stalker a huge grin. "Roomie."

Shadow Stalker let out an exaggerated sigh, tilting her helm back to stare at the ceiling with a cheeky grin. "Primus just can't spare my soul any hardships today, can he?"

"...I get top bunk!" Shadow quipped.

"Ah've always been more of bottom mech anyways." Jazz snickered.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Authors' Notes**_

 _ **Auto:**_ if you're confused by life and what it does to you clap your hands. if you screwed up and forgot to add page breaks to the previous chapter and had to fix it double so. Anyways. Chapter three kiddies. The beginning of the end.

 _ **Ninja:** -claps hands twice-_ Um, I'm just here to make an author's note. I spilled bright green finger nail polish on my desk yesterday.

* * *

"Jazz, I am not coming down," the femme growled, latching herself to the railing of the top bunk and glaring at the small mech.

Jazz smiled, "That's alright. I brought the medbay to you! Meet Wrecker medic Gomer, He'll be your personal medic for the evening."

"I just came to bring her to the medbay. We're doing our limb battles today. I really don't want to miss that."

Jazz glanced back at the mech. "Ya what?"

"Nothing. Let's just do this."

Shadow Stalker quirked an optic ridge, digging her clawed digits into the bunk. "Is everyone else taken care of?"

"Depends on who 'everybody else is'." Gomer shrugged. "All serious cases have been dealt with." He pulled out a data pad. "The only ones left are you, Commander Amalga, Commander Springer, and a few other slightly wounded individuals. I don't think Springer's gonna come in though. He wants high grade." He silently put the data pad down on the berth and pulled out a small pistol. "I do recommend you come with me now though. I'd hate to use this."

"You can take care of them first. Actually high grade sounds good right now. I'm good enough to last till Iacon," she muttered, antennae perking forward at the small pistol. Her optic ridges furrowed, good optic narrowing before meeting the medic's. "What're you gonna do, shoot me? Really?" the Commander snorted, leaning forward off the top bunk. "You really wanna do that?"

Jazz slowly backed away, holding his servos up. "I told ya she was gonna fight ya."

Gomer smirked. "I really do want to do this. It's my favorite part of the job." He aimed carefully at the femme's neck. He quickly pulled the trigger, a small dart hit the femme's neck.

She didn't have time to react before something poked into her neck. Shadow blinked, antennae perking forward even more so as she was completely stunned. Her servos fumbled for her neck, pulling the small dart from her neck. "Are.. you sssseriousss?" she slurred, shaking her helm as the world began to spin.

The femme lost her balance and toppled over the edge of the bed, landing in a graceful heap on the floor. She twitched for a few seconds, before succumbing to the tranquilizer.

"OH" Jazz cringed as the femme hit the ground with a loud thud.

The medic smirked. "I love my job." He hefted the femme over his shoulder and walked out of the room, Jazz following close behind him. "Your friend will be up within the joor. We don't have extra optics, so she'll have to do without until we get to Iacon."

"Gotcha." Jazz smiled. He was so glad he recorded that.

* * *

Amalga sighed as she walked down the ship's ramp towards Springer. Springer stood talking to a few mechs pointing at different areas on the map. "What are you doing?" Amalga questioned as mechs started moving small packs towards the building.

Springer smiled at the femme. "Blowing this joint up. Can't leave a Decepticon base for the cons to just recycle later. They'll have to reassemble it before they can reuse it." Amalga only stared at the mech. Springer groaned. "I hate it when you do that! I can't tell what you're thinking. If you're making a face, you know that visor covers it, right?"

"I'm just thinking of how much explosives you'll need to actually take down the entire building." Amalga nodded. "Probably everything we brought this time."

Springer smirked. "We barely had enough."

"Are you trying to do that cool thing where we fly off just as the base is exploding?"

"Can I?" Springer yelled. "Oh please!"

"I don't care what you do." Amalga huffed. "I do have a question though."

"Sup."

"Were we wrong to come here?"

Springer groaned. "Not this." He let out a sigh. "What? Did one of the Autobots make you feel stupid or something?"

"No." Amalga looked away. "Not stupid. Unappreciated. We didn't have to help, but I made you accept the mission, and they act like we're just slaves for them to boss around. We barely fall under Optimus Prime's command."

Springer nodded. "True. We're more of the council's last resort." Springer smirked. "But I don't think we were wrong coming here. That being said, it's not exactly right either. If Optimus Prime wanted to save whoever she is, then he should have come himself."

Amalga nodded. "True."

"Sir! The explosives are set." A mech stepped forward with a grin. "Myself and the other mechs are ready to look totally awesome flying away from this!"

Springer smiled. "Let's do it then. EVERYBODY BACK ON THE SHIP!" Springer yelled. "Ready the high grade. I'm drinking tonight."

Amalga sighed. "Yes, sir."

* * *

Jazz sat beside Shadow Stalker's berth, "Ah know ah'm cursed, mech." He mumbled to the small medic, Gomer, sitting beside him. "Ah got in here and ah got hit with a slagging arm, and then ah slipped in energon! How am ah not cursed? Yer commander is scary."

Gomer nodded, laying a severed servo on Jazz's shoulder as two other medics crossed the med bay while using legs as swords trying to land hits on each other. "Commander Amalga is said to curse those who rub her the wrong way."

"How long do these curses last?" Jazz mumbled slowly sliding the severed servo off his shoulder.

"What the frag is going on here?"

The whole room froze. The two medics quickly hid the legs behind their backs. "Commander Amalga!" One nervously smiled. "Hello."

Amalga sighed. "I told you all to stop the limb fighting tournaments. They're disrespectful to the deceased."

The mech groaned. "Yes, Commander."

Amalga turned to Jazz and nodded. "I'm sorry about them."

Jazz nodded. "No problem."

Shadow Stalker groaned, the femme stretching herself out on the medical table. Only dull flares of pain now alerted her systems. Her optic onlined slowly, and she noticed part of her sight was still missing. "Whaaat," she slurred, still groggy from the tranquilizer.

She glanced up, noticing Jazz sitting on one side and Gomer with a severed limb on her other. Shadow tilted her helm back, noticing the other two medics holding their own severed limbs. The femme relaxed back into her normal position, staring blankly at the ceiling. "I'm nooot drunk enoughhh for thisss."

Gomer smiled. "And you won't be! 'Those injured in battle shalt not drink.' It's the rule of the wrecker medics. You make us work, and you don't deserve a drink."

Amalga turned to face Gomer as he waved the servo around. "What did I just say?"

"Sorry." He mumbled walking away and putting the servo in a box. "Fun sucker."

Amalga went rigid. "Ah… I… It's disrespectful!"

"Ruining our fun is disrespectful. 'Thou who ruinith fun shalt not partake in the highgrade!' New rule, just made it. Add it to the list."

Amalga huffed. "I don't even drink."

Jazz snorted.

Shadow was silent for a few moments, before turning her helm to the silver bot. "Can you knock me out again? Unconsciousness was much more peaceful."

"Peace is for the dead." Gomer smirked. "Maybe you shoulda come in dead. You would have gotten high grade and peace."

"Enough." Amalga huffed. "Get back to work."

Gomer snorted. "Yeah yeah."

Amalga turned back to Shadow Stalker. "I apologize for him. Our medical officer doesn't exactly enjoy being a medical officer."

"He reminds me of Ratchet without the stick up his aft," the Commander chuckled, easing her way up into a sitting position. She winced, stretching herself out and then inching to the side of the berth. "I wanted to apologize for how snippy I was with you earlier, Amalga. I was a little wound up. I realize that's a pretty fragging pitiful excuse but you didn't exactly give me time to prepare the long apology speech I wanted to give. I'm not too good at those."

"It was forgiven when it happened." Amalga smiled behind her mask. "I do hope you don't think lesser of me for standing up for the Wreckers. They are my family after all."

"If anything I think more of you. There are very few who put me in my place when I need it," Shadow Stalker dipped her helm as she placed a pede timidly on the ground, testing how much weight it took. "Family in this war is the most important thing to keep you sane. You'd do anything to keep them safe, and I understand the feeling. You and your Wreckers are something else, and I thank you all for saving my bots and I."

"Wreckers don't keep wreckers safe. We're a group of bots who do suicide missions after all. I don't expect my family to come back after a mission. This was a good break from that." Amalga turned to Jazz. "Why are you staring at me?"

"Are ya gonna lift the curse?" Jazz muttered.

Amalga stared at him for a moment. Her blank visor not letting any sign of emotion escape. "I'm sorry?"

"This curse ya got on meh!" Jazz yelled.

Amalga snorted before bursting into laughter. "Who told you that you had a curse?"

Jazz looked over to Shadow Stalker. "Ah… ah thought.."

Shadow quirked an optic ridge as she steadied herself on the table, the femme now standing upright. "Nuh uh, don't you even bring me into this. I don't believe in any of that stuff."

Jazz frowned. "Ah imagined it."

Amalga chuckled. "I can't curse anybody. I can only get angry and lecture them. Which some do consider a curse, or torture."

"Tell me about it," the other femme murmured, taking a few steps forward as she regained control of her frame. She moved the length of the berth a few times, then sat back down with a huff. "So did you guys make it into the prison alright? It was awfully lacky on guards in the inside."

"We made it in fairly easily. We lost 4 mechs in the distraction area though." Amalga said.

Jazz jumped up. "OH!" He reached into his subspace pulling out the small crest he cut off Ironblazer. "Ya might like this." He passed it over to Shadow.

The black femme tensed, extending a servo and taking the crest. She rolled it between her digits, optic narrowed in concentration. "How..?" she questioned softly, looking up to the mech.

"Ah jumped out a vent and kicked the slag out of his face! I figured I'd make 'im look like a fool while ah was at it." Jazz shot the femme a huge smile. "He ain't dead, Ah figured ya'd kill meh yaself if ah did it."

"Aw, Jazz," Shadow chuckled, smirking as she stashed the trophy in her subspace. "Kicking his face probably made him pretty. There's no way that ugly mug could have gotten uglier." She drummed her digits against her thigh and dipped her helm at the last statement. "I dunno if I would have killed you. Disappointed I didn't get my ultimate revenge? Definitely. Especially after these past few Orns, it reminded me just how much I wanna throw that fragger in a smelting pit and watch him burn."

Amalga frowned at the word revenge. "Those who plot to hurt others hurt themselves the most."

Jazz frowned. This probably wasn't going to end well. The two had just made up as well.

Shadow Stalker side glanced the other, wings twitching subtly. "He's already hurt me, it's time to return the favor. I don't know what City-State you came from, but I'm Kaonic, and we don't let people get away with the things he's done," she stated, voice wavering only slightly as she dug her digits into the berth. "Cons like him don't deserve to live, and I'll be damned if he outlives me or I don't kill him first."

Shadow Stalker's optic lifted and turned to lock with her visor. "So while I understand your words, please consider I've waited far too long and gotten far too involved to let him go unpunished."

"It was a simple warning. I don't care what you do with your life." Amalga glanced at the entrance of the medbay where Springer was glancing around nervously. "I'm sure whoever the bot is, he'll be punished in the well of allsparks."

"I hope he gets thrown in the smelting pits," she rumbled, mostly to herself before she too noticed Springer. "What's got big green worked up?"

"He wants to drink, but if he gets seen to by a medic he can't." Amalga sighed. "He wants something."

Springer locked optics with Amalga, slowly working his way through the med bay avoiding the medics best he could. He finally made it over to the group with a sigh. "I saw my life flash before my eyes a few times." He smiled to Shadow Stalker and Jazz. "Hey."

"Heya." Jazz returned the greeting with a smile.

"Springer," Shadow returned with a dip of her helm.

Springer glanced over to Shadow Stalker. "I hope my medics treated you well. I'd hate Optimus to send Wreckers to beat me up if you weren't."

"There might have been a minor incident with a tranquilizer gun, but they were very helpful," she returned with a sly grin. "Thank you for rescuing my bots and I."

Springer nodded. "Not like I had a choice. I'm sure Amalga would never have let me live it down if I said no."

"Thanks for the help anyways, mech." Jazz nodded. "I couldn't have done it alone."

She'd bite the bullet since everyone else was dancing around the question. "So, what brings you to Med Bay?" Shadow asked, tilting her helm.

Springer perked up. "Amalga, you're gonna miss the take off! It's going to be amazing." He flashed a big smile.

Amalga frowned. "I'm coming." She groaned sighed as she nodded to Jazz and Shadow Stalker. "If you feel up to it, please join us. It's a Wrecker tradition now, apparently."

"I feel like I wanna see this," Shadow mused, standing up again and steadying herself. The femme took a few wobbly steps forward, moving towards the door.

Springer smiled at Amalga. "I hope I can see Cons flying out of the explosion."

"Augh. Why are you like this?" Amalga lead the way to command center of the ship. "You need to be respectful."

"Of what? A con?" Springer snorted. "I don't even consider them real bots. You should fix your view of the world, Amalga. No wonder you're still full of blind faith."

Amalga simply hmm'd in response to the mech's personal attack.

"They bicker like sparkmates," Shadow commented softly to Jazz, amusement plastered on her face.

Jazz snorted. "Get a room, you two!"

Amalga quickly turned around. "Excuse me?"

Springer snorted. "Gross!"

Shadow's jaw dropped, the femme's helm whipping around as her antennae flung themselves forward and her wings hitched up. "Jazz. Oh my primus. I can't even with you right now."

"Ah really thought they were, ya know…"

Springer burst into laughter as Amalga clinched her fists. "I would never! Not with him! No, no, no! He's so… not my type."

"And what is your type?" Spring smirked. "Big and religious?"

"Not stupid." Amalga deadpanned as she walked away. "I'm going to watch the base blow up and pretend it's you."

"I can't believe you just did that," the black femme shook her head with a grin. "But if we're blowing up a base, that's more important. I like explosions."

Springer nodded. "Explosions first. Picking on Amalga later."

* * *

They had all made it to the bridge a few breems later, and waited eagerly for the fireworks to begin.

"This better be a big explosion," Shadow commented idly.

"It should be, I used all our explosives." Springer stared out the window of the ship. "Alright! Let's do this! Start the engines, and get ready for take off."

"Warming up the engines! 40%... 56%...68%...89%... Engines ready."

Springer smiled. "Start take off!" The ship lifted off the ground, hovering for a moment. "Detonate." He whispered giddily his optics lit up with anticipation as he stared at the huge monitor sending them the images of the building.

Just as the ship took off, a deafening BOOM shook the ship, causing some of the equipment to beep and ring. The building was engulfed in smoke, vibrant red flames giving the building an ominous glow as it crumbled apart. "Yes!" Springer yelled.

"I feel like I needed some High Grade to toast to that," Shadow Stalker chuckled, giving her nod of approvement.

"If you even look in the high grade's direction, I'll tranq your aft." Gomer walked into the room with a huff. "I mean it too. You broke the rules of the wreckers!"

"What did I do?" the femme whined, antennae pinning back momentarily.

"Those injured in battle shall not partake in the high grade." The mech recited in monotone.

"Okay, but if we want to get technical, I wasn't injured in battle. I was captured and tortured," she pointed out with a small smirk.

"Allow me to rephrase. You make me work, you get punished." The mech huffed. "Like I said, you should have come back dead, at least we could have used your body for our tournament."

Amalga huffed. "I said, enough of that kind of talk."

The mech grumbled. "It's true."

Shadow shuddered at the thought. She'd end up just sneaking some back into her and Jazz's quarters to drink later anyway. The femme would rather be in the position she was in now than ever imagine her pedes or arms being used as...swords.

Amalga turned her helm to face Gomer. "Put the tranq gun away."

"She's thinking what they all think. It's personal." The mech glared. "It's the tranq, or she can take her aft right off this ship."

Amalga rolled her optics. "Gomer, Why don't you just let her go to the medical bay? You can keep an eye on her there, I'm sure she won't be able to sneak high grade in there either."

The other femme cringed internally. "I can't just sleep in my own quarters with Jazz?"

Amalga shook her helm. "Not if we want to make Gomer happy. And we DO want to make Gomer happy. I'd rather not recharge in the engine room because he's locked our quarters with medic only codes… again."

Shadow bit her lip, the femme letting out a whine. "I guess if I really have to," she muttered, glancing over to Jazz. "Please tell me you're coming with."

Jazz let out a loud laugh. "Nah! Ya must be crazy."

Amalga sighed. "I'll go. We have things to discuss anyways. Don't we, Shadow Stalker?"

Springer smirked. "Somebody is going to get a lecture."

Amalga ignored him, walking over to Shadow Stalker. "We'll have fun, I promise."

The tetra-colored femme hesitantly nodded in agreement. "Very well. Gomer, lead the way."

Jazz waved, a cube of high grade already in his servos. "Have fun!"

The three silently walked to the medical bay. Gomer nodded to Shadow Stalker's berth. "Watch her, Amalga. No high grade. I have to go do inventory."

Amalga waved as the mech walked off. She opened her subspace, passing a cube of high grade to Shadow Stalker. "I thought you might want this."

Shadow's optic lit up in glee, her antennae and wings perking. "Holy Primus, thank you." She took the cube gratefully, cracking it open and sending a sneaky glance to the side before taking a few large gulps.

The Commander sat down on the berth, cross-peded with the cube balancing on her thigh. Her wings fluttered in contentment, before she looked over to Amalga. "May I ask how you ended up here? I thought all religious figures were super anti-war."

"I grew up in tyger pax, in a covenant of Primus, the one with the well of the allspark, usually when you reach a certain age you get to go out and see the world, but when I reached of age, I couldn't because of the war. I had a meeting with a mech, Kup. He said all the places I wanted to see were gone, so I escaped, and went off to see everything myself." Amalga leaned back in her chair. "I didn't make it far before I found a volunteer station for the Wreckers. I joined on a whim. I want to make the world like it was before the war. Where bots can have faith in Primus again."

Shadow listened quietly, the femme hunched over with her chin propped in her servo. "By the Allspark, you're still so young and you've probably seen some messed up slag," she murmured, shaking her helm at the thought. "I only heard tales of what Cybertron was like before the War. I grew up in Kaon. Not much different than the stuff you see now, honestly. I only managed to get out a few times to travel to Iacon with Orion Pax, but I never got to see much. But it was so fascinating and so different compared to the Gladiator Pits. I wish I could have bought my freedom sooner."

Amalga smiled. "I'm actually a lot older than you may think. The high priestess be-" Amalga sighed. "I didn't leave the temple until long after I was of age. If I had left when I was able, I may have been able to see the world like I wanted, minimally damaged by the war."

Amalga looked at Shadow Stalker. "I've met many gladiators in the Wreckers. They all carry their own baggage, I've noticed. Perhaps the high grade was a mistake." Amalga thought a moment. "I won't bring any next time."

"You're probably still younger than I am. You look it anyway, what parts I can see of you," the gladiator stated with a tilt of her helm, taking another sip of her high grade. "Yeah, we tend to drink our nightmares away. It was pit in there. I've lost many good friends, some..personal. I actually at one point considered the Wreckers as an option."

Shadow chuckled, shaking her head at the memory. "Then I realized that Ori-Optimus, really had no clue what he was doing when it came to fighting and the poor mech needed all the help he could get."

"You talk about it like joining the Wreckers could have been the worst thing in the world." Amalga laughed. "It's the best thing that happened to me."

The other femme grinned. "Oh, no no. I feel like I would have enjoyed it had I taken the option. I just realized Optimus would probably need assistance and I was best suited for that job." She took another sip of her highgrade, smiling around the cube at when Optimus had first been getting use to his new body. "You should have seen that poor mech try hand to hand combat when we first started. He would throw his whole weight into a punch and fall over!"

"Prime's weren't always meant for combat." Amalga sighed. "Their main purpose was to be the bridge between the government and Primus. A messenger so to speak. The current Prime doesn't not seem to take that job seriously. Not the previous ones did either. At the very least, this one is better than the previous."

Shadow nodded solemnly. "He's trying, though. Perhaps once we get back you could speak with him." She finished off the high grade cube, looking at it dejectedly and silently praying it'd magically refill itself. It kept her mind off Optimus, the mech was probably worried sick about her and she wanted nothing more than to be in his arms right now.

"I already have." Amalga crossed her legs. "He's very irresponsible. If he's going to be a good commander he needs to get his emotions under control. Sending people to die to save one person, is not worth it. No matter the person. Unless he has another use for you other than lover." Amalga sighed. "I was hoping this mission had more weight to it, besides a worrying mate."

"Well, you saved 33 bots, not just the Prime's lover," she pointed out, "A whole squadron is a rather big deal. We haven't had a save this big in a while. You all ought to be very proud of yourselves. But yes, Optimus does tend to think with his spark and not his helm. He was the same way as Orion Pax."

"That's all well and good, but he didn't send us here to save 33 bots. He sent us here to save one. And even though we saved 33 we lost some along the way." Amalga sighed. "I didn't mean to get us into a political debate. I'm glad we were able to save you, but I'm a bot who has to think of the cost."

Shadow Stalker dipped her helm. "I understand where you're coming from," she yawned, trying to muffle it with a servo. The exhaustion from the past few orns was quickly settling down on her. "I'll have a talk with him when we get back about this."

Amalga stood up. "I'll let you get some rest then. May Primus guide your dreams somewhere safe and full of happiness." She nodded her helm before leaving the room.

The Commander watched her go with a small smile, antennae perking. She subspaced the empty cube, and proceeded to move to the farthest berth away from the scary medic's office. As exhausted as she was, she wasn't sure she was tired enough to recharge close to him.

She pulled herself onto the berth, rolling so her back was against the wall and her optic trained on the office. Shadow wasn't able to keep herself conscious for very long, and almost immediately fell into a peaceful recharge.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Authors' Notes**_

 _ **Auto:**_ Ninja didn't want to leave a note this time so you're all stuck with me on this final journey. We're probably going to do more of these little stories between our big ones. Our next big story, _The Sound of Silence,_ is currently a WIP so it may be a while till that surfaces. And I just started my Senior year in High School so wish me luck. With that, onto chapter the last of Ruffians and Renegades.

* * *

Shadow Stalker's frame came online with a jolt, the femme's vents hitched as she awoke in blind panic. Her surroundings were quickly searched, before she settled back down with a huff. The femme quietly reassured herself she was indeed out of the Con's base, she was all fine and safe.

She swung herself off the berth, standing and stretching. Her range of motion had come back, and it felt spectacular. The sound of approaching pedesteps made her antennae perk, the femme's optics narrowing as she located the sound. It was that Wrecker Medic, Gomer, approaching her.

"Don't give me that look." The small medic grumbled as he crossed his arms over his chassis. "Why are you still here?"

"You haven't cleared me to leave yet," the femme replied, quirking an optic ridge.

"Oh, so I have to clear you too? Do I look like one of you Autobot medics who give a frag when their patients leave? The faster you leave the faster I get to do whatever I want. Like fight with limbs. Right, Slider?"

"Yes sir!" Another medic yelled from across the relatively small medical bay.

Gomer nodded. "See? Get out."

"Aye aye Cap'n," Shadow snarked in reply, wings twitching as she strode out of the med bay. As soon as she was outside and the door had closed securely behind her the femme literally jumped for joy.

She scurried down the hall, counting the doors until she got to the quarters her and Jazz were bunked in. The femme quickly typed in the combination, striding inside and making her way over to the bunk. The top had her name written all over it, but her quest to recharge was interrupted by the sight of Jazz recharging on the desk.

Shadow Stalker paused mid step, optic narrowing in disbelief. This fragger wasn't seriously so overcharged that he thought the desk was his berth. She moved over, standing over him and giving the knocked out form a pointed stare. Primus, this mech was a job.

With a huff, the femme began wiggling the other mech into her arms. Primus damn anyone who said she wasn't a good bot at spark after this. Shadow moved the mech over to the bottom berth, and dumped him on it.

"Quit recharging in weird places," she muttered as she made her way to the top bunk, flopping down and staring at the ceiling. The orn was young, and she did not yet want to face it. But at the same time, they would be back to Iacon soon. A smile lit up her face at the thought. Back home in Iacon, surrounded by her friends and at the Prime's side again. Right where she belonged.

Shadow let out a soft vent, offlining her optic and powering down. The day, as excited as she was for it, could wait another joor. She needed to be properly rested for once.

* * *

Amalga sat in the middle of a small worship room in the medium sized ship they were on. It was different than the one she usually used, this one seemed like it had been changed into a sparring room instead of it's original religious purpose. She didn't really mind though. All the benches were pushed against the walls, giving the room plenty of places for bots to sit and watch matches. That's where her extra layer of armor was sitting now, leaving her in only her thin armor, ill suited for combat.

She sat with her legs crossed in the center of the room; Her servos rested gently on her knees. She took a deep intake as she closed her optics and tried her best to clear her processor.

The sounds of the ventilation and pressurization systems filled her audials and she let out the intake. Slowly she opened her optics and stood up. She took another deep intake as she slowly bent back into a backbend. The metal around her torso bent and popped as she lowered herself to the ground. A small spark of pain shot up from her back, but she ignored it.

She swiftly pushed her feet up off the ground and balanced them in the air, her servos taking her full weight as the pain slowly subsided. She sat like this for a few more moments. Listening to the ventilation and the echoes of her intakes.

Suddenly she sprung back, landing on her pedes. In one swift motion she grabbed a short bar hanging from her hips, extended it and activated the spear tip.

She smiled as the spear stopped just before it would collide with a mech's throat.

Springer stood still smiling at Amalga as she removed the spear head. "Why, Amalga! I could have died! What an awful femme, trying to kill me in my own ship."

Amalga's full face visor only reflected Springers face at him. "I wouldn't kill you, Springer, at least not in a holy place like this."

Springer snorted. "But you would kill me?"

Amalga slowly put away her spear, moving back to her sitting position. "I'd never kill you. You are my commander, and brother in arms."

"Course I am." Springer threw himself onto the bench that sat just behind Amalga. He glanced over to the extra armor against the wall. "You should really wear that all the time."

"I can't stretch in it."

"You're not supposed to." Springer grinned. "You're a Wrecker, not a circus performer."

"Circus performer?" Amalga quickly slid her frame around to face Springer. "I am no such thing! I do this so my frame and mind will be at peace! I do this because Primus wants all his children to be at peace."

"There you go again." Springer crossed his arms. "Off talking about that Primus again like some crazy bot on a rampage."

Amalga shook her helm. "So what?"

"I'll never understand you religious bots. Especially you. Why become a wrecker? Why become the one thing where you have to kill to survive?"

"I'll tell you what I've told every bot who has ever asked." Amalga smiled. "There's no god in war."

Springer snorted. "Yeah, right. You mean no god at all?"

"What did you come here for, Springer?" Amalga sighed.

Springer stood up. "I have our next orders, from the council this time. It's gonna be a good one."

"Yeah?" Amalga stood up. "And what are they?"

"We'll be meeting up with the Xantium in Iacon, and restocking our supplies. Then we'll be going off to the polar cap, and taking care of some lab."

"How long will we be resupplying in Iacon?" Amalga questioned as she began the long process of reattaching the extra armor.

"A few orns. Long enough to get what we need?" Springer shrugged. He let out a soft chuckle. "We'll probably even stay long enough to get your back patched got a problem with that?"

Amalga frowned. Her back? She reached to her back where the pain was flaring up earlier. When she saw the energon smeared on her servo she groaned. "I thought it was just from having the armor on too long."

Springer snorted. "It doesn't seem too bad, you can probably avoid Gomer and just go to one of Iacon's medics."

Amalga nodded as the room was left in a heavy silence. The femme continued putting on her armor. She wasn't looking forward to Iacon. More specifically, she wasn't looking forward to meeting the Prime again. She didn't hate him. Her opinion of him just wasn't a very good one. She came on this mission to save a squadron, but was sent on it to save only one. "I'm worried, actually. Iacon may be a bad place for us. We have very different views on how battles should be waged. What needs priority."

"Ah, you mean, we have different views than the Prime. You don't like him?"

"I don't think I've ever liked a Prime." Amalga sighed. "They don't do the jobs they're given very well."

"What a thing for a former high priestess to say." Springer snorted.

Amalga turned away from Springer. "Shut up. It's not about that. It's-" Amalga sighed. "Forget it. We'll be in Iacon soon?"

"Yeah." Springer nodded.

Amalga sighed. "I'll try to be present for the landing then."

Springer raised an optic ridge. "You'll try? What, do you plan on pouting some more?"

"I guess I do." Amalga patted Springer's back as she walked out of the room.

* * *

Shadow Stalker turned onto her side, optic onlining as she wiped the drowsiness away from her with her servo. She pushed herself up partially, yawning and flaring her wings as she checked her internal chronometer. All sorts of sleepiness was gone when she noticed how long she had accidentally recharged.

The femme flung herself off the top bunk, landing on the floor with a loud thud. She turned, noticing Jazz was still out cold. There was no time for this. "Jazz wake up!" she howled, pouncing on him impatiently and poking at the silver frame. "We're almost in Iacon."

Jazz's servo flew forward, smacking Shadow Stalker as hard as it could in it's drowsy state of mind, which wasn't hard at all. "Not now, Prowler. Ah gotta recharge." Jazz paused mid sentence groping the top of Shadow's thigh and then moving to her aft. "Not Prowl."

Shadow's face contorted into one of mild annoyance. "No, Jazz. Not Prowl. Shadow Stalker. Now quit feeling me up, fragger."

Jazz didn't move for a moment. He let out a groan before he allowed his servo to drop back down to the berth and slowly sat up. "Ah didn't do that. Ya have no proof."

"Yeah, and we're going to keep it that way. The last thing I need is someone distorting that to make it sound like we were getting frisky," she huffed, crawling out of the berth and standing on the ground. "Now c'mon, you lazy fragger. We're almost home."

Jazz stood up off the berth with a sigh. "Why do wreckers get such good berths? So comfy. So pure." He stretched his arms up over his helm and yawned. "Ah'm am so exhausted. It's yer fault."

"Yeah yeah, gripe on the way there, would you? Your mech's probably waiting at the landing pad, all sorts of worried about your sorry aft," Shadow huffed, moving out into the corridor and towards command central. "How close you think we are?"

Jazz followed the femme out of the room, with a groan. "I thought ya knew where we were! Why ya wakin' meh up if ya didn't know?"

Shadow cast him a glance. "I know we're almost there. I just don't know how close. You wanna do me a favor and move to the side that has the optic so I can see you. You being in my blind spot makes me all paranoid that you're gonna disappear or make faces at me."

Jazz started making faces. "Nah, ah like it right here." He stuck out his golassa wiggling it around.

"Now you're just being mean," she pouted, turning to poke him the chest before moving forward again. "Aren't you even the slightest bit excited?"

Jazz shrugged. "It's just Iacon. Ah've been ta places better than Iacon. Ah get back, and Prowl's gonna put meh on desk duty for a vorn."

"Desk duty just for a rescue mission? He's crueler than I suspected," Shadow murmured, stopping as they reached the command central. She stood quietly, surveying what she could.

"Ah didn't tell him ah was coming on the mission." Jazz smiled. "He woulda found some way ta stop me. He wants ta keep me cooped up, but ah'm a bot who likes ta roam!" He frowned. "And ah had a desk fulla unfinished data pads."

The black femme smirked, wings fluttering as she turned to look at the Saboteur. "I wonder if habitual shirking of datapads is like some sort of initiation to officer positions. I never use to do it. I actually use to forge Optimus's a good bit of the time. But the moment Prowl got me as Commander I wouldn't touch one of those evil things with a twenty foot pole."

"Ah'm good at keepin' up with mah work. The battle just brought in so much ah felt like I was drownin' in it. Ah had ta have a break. Thanks for bein' that break."

Shadow snorted, shaking her helm. "I guess you're welcome," she chuckled, looking out the front of the ship. She could see the familiar skyline in the distance, and became giddy with excitement.

"You like Iacon that much?" A familiar Green and yellow mech leaned into Shadow Stalker's line of sight. "Somebody has to I guess."

The femme's wings twitched, antennae flicking into neutral position as she offered a shrug. "After those few orns locked up in a brig, it's a sight for sore optics," she stated, pausing for a moment before correcting herself. "Or optic, I guess."

Springer laughed. "You're gonna be a cyclops for the rest of your life. Get used to it now."

Shadow Stalker gave a laugh of her own. "I think I'll pass on that, Springer. I like both of my optics. Let's me know when Jazz is making faces in my blindspot thinking I won't notice."

Springer glanced over Jazz who was indeed making faces at the femme. "I can just let you know instead." He smiled. "You seen Amalga? She was supposed to be here."

"I haven't," she stated with a small frown. "Not since last night, anyways."

Springer nodded. "She's probably still pouting then."

"Sir, we're ready to land."

Springer rolled his optics. "Then do it. I can't tell you what to do all the time."

"Ah, Yes sir!"

"Pouting?" Shadow questioned, glancing out the window again. As much as she couldn't wait to get outside, this had her current attention.

"Nothing important." Springer sighed as the ship rocked a bit as they hit the tarmac. "I guess we're opening the hull then. Here's your orders! When the Xantium gets here, stock him up! We're headed to the poles next so don't forget a slagging thing, understood?"

Yells of "understood"s and "yes sir"s filled the command center as bots began scattering. Springer turned back to Shadow Stalker and Jazz. "You two are free to go to where ever you want to go, I guess."

Jazz nodded. "Ah got a mech to see." He smiled before walking off.

The femme turned to look down the hallway towards the opening, wings fluttering. She turned back to Springer, giving a thankful nod. "Thank you for your help with this. I've got some business to attend to, but I hope to see you and the Wreckers off before you head to the poles. How long are you sticking around?"

"A few orns at most." Springer shrugged. "Long enough to resupply the Xantium at least. Don't you have a lover to see?"

She gave a nod, then grinned for a moment. "I do, but the sky also calls me. Don't ever cage a flier, it drives us insane."

Shadow Stalker gave a wave, before moving down the corridor and off the ship. She stood at the end of the ramp for a few moments, glancing at the sky. It called to her, but so did a certain spark, who she knew was lurking around here somewhere. Her optic surveyed the gathered bots, looking for that red and blue one that towered over the rest of them.

Optimus stood at the top of the platform looking over the crowd of wreckers exiting the tiny ship. He watched as Jazz walked out, looked around and slinked off towards his second in command, obviously a bit guilty about something. Hopefully not about Shadow Stalker.

He waited a bit longer as more people filed out of the ship. The moment he saw the tetra colored femme, he let out a sigh of relief. She was okay. "Shadow!" He called out, raising his servo, doing his best to keep his imagine as Prime and leader of the Autobots. It was difficult.

Her helm snapped around, antennae flying forwards as she pinpointed the voice. The sight of the mech caused wave of relief to wash over her frame, a smile spreading over her face. "Optimus!" she called back, taking a running leap into the sky. The femme transformed into her jet form, wobbling for a moment before barrel rolling a tad bit higher. She circled the platform, before gunning for the Prime himself. Shadow transformed at the last minute, landing lightly before darting forward and wrapping her arms around the larger mech and snuggling into him with a purr.

Optimus jumped as the femme squeezed him in her arms. "Shadow, please, we're in public." He was overjoyed to see her well. She was safe and that was the most important thing for him, but now that he knew she was okay, he had to make sure everything else was going well, which meant he had to separate himself from Shadow Stalker, some way.

"Just let me have a moment, fragger," she muttered into his chest plates, pulling back a few moments later to wipe at her optic. "I lost three. Four are critical."

Optimus frowned. "Shadow Stalker, please understand. I know you're hurt, but right now, I need to remain professional."

"Alright," the femme murmured, turning away from the mech to survey the rest of the bots. They were trickling out now, getting down to the last few. "You be a Prime. I need to go find Ratchet before he hunts me down, and finish getting fixed up."

Shadow vented softly, reaching out to gently squeeze his servo before turning and moving off towards the inside of the base.

Optimus clinched his fists around the railing as Shadow Stalker walked away. Sometimes he hated being a prime. It was difficult.

* * *

Shadow Stalker sat dejected on the medical berth as Ratchet worked on her.

"You're quite possibly my most frequent patient who isn't Sideswipe or Sunstreaker," the old medic grumbled, grabbing her new optic and soldering it into place. "Anything off?"

"No, it's good. Remember how you told me with as much as I break them, I should get my optics reinforced?" Shadow asked, blinking a few times as she adjusted to her full sight again.

"Yeah, and you whined that you 'didn't need no slagging reinforced optics.' Change your mind?" he asked, scanning over the femme to check for any other damages.

"Considering it," she mused, kicking her legs so the bounced off the side of the berth.

"Quit pouting," the red and white mech huffed, shaking his helm. "You're acting like a rejected youngling. You knew fragging well what you were getting into with that one."

Shadow Stalker frowned, antennae flicking back as her wings drooped. "Ratch-"

"Ah-ah, don't. You knew and you still went for him, just accept that the mech's gotta hold a reputation," the medic stated, bouncing a wrench off the femme's forehelm.

She scowled in response, servos instantly flying up to massage the area. "Was that necessary."

"Yes. Now get your sorry aft out of my Med Bay. I've got other patients, four of which are yours" Ratchet stated, gathering up his tools and moving away.

The femme watched him move away, her optics dimming. Grumpy old medic. She'd just sit here anyway, just to spite him. Not like she had anywhere to be until Optimus was done with whatever the Prime was up to. All she wanted was a fragging hug, but no, had to keep the stoic, strong leader face on.

She flopped back onto the berth, letting out an aggravated vent. Ratchet was right, she knew what she was getting herself into, but it still fragging hurt sometimes.

A sharp yelp filled a small area of the medical bay followed First aid's loud "I'm so sorry! I tapped it too hard!"

Mumbling followed First Aid's loud exclamation. Then a little bit of laughter.

The black femme's antennae perked at the sound, her curious nature causing her to slide off the berth and scurry over to the sounds. Shadow noticed First Aid hunkered away in a corner, working on another femme. She narrowed her optics, before blinking. It was Amalga.

Amalga was laying on her chassis, part of her back armor removed where First Aid was leaning over it. "It looks like a few of the sensors were damaged, but it's an easy fix. I'm surprised you didn't notice sooner."

Amalga shrugged. "The extra armor keeps pressure on some of the sensors so when they go off I end up ignoring them a lot. I know I shouldn't. Do you know how long it will take to fix?"

"Not long. You also have some cable damage too. It looked like blaster went partially through it. How did you not notice that?"

Amalga laughed. "I'm a wrecker." She answered. "You learn to ignore unpleasantness."

"I see. I can seal it easily, so all in all, you're not in bad shape at all!"

"That is good to hear." Amalga nodded.

Shadow Stalker leaned just the slightest bit forward to better hear the conversation, before backing up and taking a seat. She crossed her legs, propping her helm in her servos. As much as she disliked being nosey, it didn't hurt from time to time. This was as good as any.

First Aid stood straightened up as he reached over for a welder. "It must be hard, being a wrecker."

Amalga shrugged. "It's hard to keep your helm." She hissed as First Aid began applying heat to the cable.

"Sorry, it'll only take a few. What mission are you coming back from?"

"We were sent out to rescue an Autobot squadron. It was a confusing mission." Amalga sighed. "I'm not used to rescue, nor am I used to missions where the objective is… personal."

First Aid frowned. "Personal to you?"

Amalga laughed. "No. It was personal to somebody else. Bots sometimes make their personal feelings the priority and when it's a commander, well, things get difficult." Amalga sighed.

Shadow Stalker listened quietly, a frown coming to her features. She knew what was coming, and knew this was probably the last thing she wanted to hear today. But the femme stayed, simply offlining her optics and toning in even more.

Amalga hissed again First Aid's apology coming out swiftly, causing Amalga to laugh. "Don't worry about it! You're fixing me."

"Sorry, continue." First Aid smiled at the femme's back, knowing full well she couldn't see it.

"Ah, it's nothing. I just don't like doing mission like that. They feel wrong." Amalga groaned. "But I'm the one who accepted it. I'm the one who made this mission happen. I don't really understand why I'm so split about it. One side of me thinks it's wrong to send other people in to do work you should be doing, especially when it's personal. The other side says I didn't take the mission to do his personal work. I did it to save a squadron."

First Aid frowned. "I think you did the right thing, if it makes any difference."

Amalga smiled. "It does make a difference, but at the same time, it just confuses me more. I want to understand what makes somebody so special that you'd risk the lives of so many to save just one bot. Maybe that's what annoys me about it. His audacity to make the mission seem like it was meant save many when he only cared about the one." Amalga groaned. "I don't want to think about it." She groaned.

 _There it is_. Shadow thought bitterly to herself, shaking her helm. Why couldn't Amalga just accept the fact that what she and the other Wreckers, and Jazz of course, pulled off nothing short of a minor miracle to save her squadron? She was reading too much into the details and just couldn't get past the minor flaws in thinking. There was no way Optimus would have sent them in just for her. It was completely irrational.

The black femme vented, onlining her optics to stare at the floor. She couldn't tear herself up over this, or else she'd begin to mimic the Priestess. If there was one thing the ex-gladiator excelled at, it was stuffing away all her issues for later. This one was no different than the rest. Shadow drew herself off the berth, wings flicking in irritation as she strode out the Med Bay.

Maybe she should become Jazz and actually do her paperwork for once.

* * *

Amalga rubbed the hole in her extra layer of armor. How stupid did she have to be to let that happen? At least it wasn't a repeat of the last time something like this happened. She still hasn't lived that down yet. "Amalga!"

Amalga turned to her loud commander, "What is it, Springer?"

"You get fixed up?" Springer smiled leaning against the wall of the hallway.

Amalga shot him a suspicious glance from behind her visor. "I might have. What do you want?"

"Oh nothing, just wondering if you saw the Prime's speech earlier."

Amalga shook her helm, leaning next to Springer. "No, why?"

"He wanted to extend his deepest thanks for saving 33 bots in our mission." Springer laughed loudly.

A little ways down the hall, Shadow had heard the laugh, the femme's antennae perking as she turn. Springer laughing usually meant some kind of delicious gossip was being spread. It was probably about Optimus, this time.

The femme prowled silently down the hall, listening in to the conversation.

Amalga huffed at Springer's comment. "Wouldn't he have said that no matter what?"

Springer snorted. "Yeah. He kept it short and sweet. Then ran off to Primus knows where." He paused. "Would Primus know where?"

"Would Primus care?" Amalga shrugged.

Springer pushed off the wall, and shrugged. "I don't know, you're the religious one."

Amalga sighed. "Perhaps, but that doesn't mean I know anything about what Primus does." With a sigh she started walking down the hall. "Were you headed to the Xantium?"

Springer shook his helm. "Not yet. I was going to the rec room to get some energon. I heard that's where you can hear all the crazy gossip."

"Maybe you should do your job." Amalga sighed.

"Oh? Like Optimus Prime?" Springer snorted. "How about I send a battalion to sa-" Amalga cut him off, elbowing his side. He let out a loud grunt. "Frag it, Amalga!"

Amalga pointed to the end of the hall. Optimus was walking towards them as he read a data pad. He glanced up, and nodded to the two. "Springer, Amalga, I was just looking for you."

Springer smirked. "Hey were just talking about.. Uh.."

"How you sent us after a single femme, yet talked to the press like you cared about the entire squadron." Amalga finished for Springer.

Springer's frame went rigid as he slowly backed up. He glanced between the two as they stared at each other. Optimus with wide optics, and Amalga with her blank visor that somehow portrayed her agitation perfectly.

The red and blue mech cleared his throat awkwardly, going to speak before an enraged screech filled the hallway. It was followed shortly after by a bristling Shadow Stalker, who promptly shoved the startled Prime out of her way as she faced down Amalga.

"How dare you!" she snarled, antennae pinned back and wings flared. "Is that really how you're going to speak to a Prime, Priestess?"

Amalga stared at Shadow Stalker as a smile invisible to all graced her lips. "I only speak the truth. If I see somebody engaging in an activity that doesn't fit their job, even a prime, I'm going to point it out. If that offends then it seems like your problem."

Springer shook his helm. This wasn't going to end well. He slowly backed up to one of the walls, watching as the fight quickly escalated.

Optimus hid the frown on his features, he could tell this was not going to end well between the femmes. He reached forward, putting a warning servo on Shadow Stalker's shoulders.

The tetracolored femme promptly shrugged off the servo, her optics narrowed dangerously. "Listen. I tried to be nice. I said thank you for saving my bots and I. The whole mission is already done and over with, but you can't seem to quit questioning your orders. Why are you so hung up on the thought? Primus frag it, femme, just accept you did a good thing and let it go!"

"It would be easier to accept, if the motivation behind it wasn't so skewed." Amalga shook her helm. "If I was sent there to save a squadron, fine, what a great thing I did, but that wasn't what the mission was for!"

"What else would you have done? Attempted to get them to sign a fragging peace treaty?" Shadow growled, armor flaring momentarily before settling back down. "I saw the mission outline. It was strictly a rescue with the Wreckers providing some much needed distractions to get in and get out. What's so skewed about that?"

"Do you even question your commander's intentions? Do you just blindly run in trusting that your commanding officer has the same motivation you do? That mission never would have been made if you weren't part of that squadron!" Amalga crossed her arms over her chest. "But fine, I'm the one who who just can't come to terms with the mission."

"I only question intentions when something fishy is going on, not about a fragging run of the mill rescue miss-what did you just say?" Shadow reeled back, baring her fangs momentarily. "If I hadn't been part of the squadron-are you serious right now. That is the most absolutely ridiculous thing I've heard this entire week, and I've been locked up in a Decepticon brig for most of it and stuck with your crazy limb battling medics for another good portion of it. Optimus, please, help me out here in telling the femme how crazy and irrational that would be," the tetra colored femme vented, turning to face the Prime with an aggravated look.

Optimus glanced away from the femme, "Shadow Stalker, I can't do that."

Amalga sighed. "At least he can admit it."

Shadow Stalker paused herself before she took off on her rant again, having expected back up. Not..whatever that was. Her glacier blue optics narrowed as she shook her helm. "Optimus, now is not the time for jokes," she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

Optimus shook his helm. "What do you want me to say?" He took a step closer the femme. "You were missing. There was no sign of you anywhere. We had the intelligence of that decepticon prison, and…" Optimus sighed. "I would have sent the entire army if I had to."

The black femme's frame went rigid as it all sunk in. "Optimus.." she murmured, wings drooping as she pressed her servos to her optic ridges and let out a sharp vent. The whole time she had known the mech, she'd thought he'd always have done what was good for the whole. Not cater to one individual. Her specifically. By the Allspark, how many of his decisions had been based just around her? This was a fragging war! Bots were going to die. It was entirely too much to handle for the femme right now.

"I am not worth an army," Shadow Stalker spoke up, having found her voice again as she shook her helm violently. "I'm one individual, this is a war, and you just sent them all off to rescue me, one singular fragging spark, like my bots didn't even matter. Optimus-that's just, I-"

The femme's engine whined as she turned, giving a hasty nod to Springer and Amalga. "Good luck on your next mission. I need to catch up on datapads and write the condolence letters." Shadow hurried past Prime, barely sparing him a look as she rushed off down the corridor. She couldn't deal with this right now.

Springer shifted a bit, tapping Amalga's shoulder. "We should go check on the Xantium."

"Go on ahead." Amalga stared at Optimus as he stood in place, staring down at the ground. She watched Springer go, not moving until he was completely out of sight.

She walked up to the Prime, craning back her neck to look him in the optics. "Do you need to talk about it?"

Optimus turned away, walking over to the wall, and sliding down into a sitting position. "You want to offer me help after putting me into this situation?"

"It's not my fault." Amalga sat down on the ground next to the Prime. "What do you think marks the difference between you and the decepticons?"

Optimus frowned. "Fundamental thought processes."

Amalga chuckled. "Motives." She sighed. "Intentions and motives are what make you different. Good and evil are such blurred things, there are no obvious lines to separate them, so people judge other based on their intentions. Especially in war." She sighed allowing silence to fill the hallway.

"Do you believe I did something wrong?" Optimus finally broke the silence. "The opinion of a priestess is most important to me."

Amalga shook her helm. "That's an awful lot of pressure." she shrugged. "I can't answer that. Right and wrong are very personal things. To me, it was wrong, but it seems to everybody else it was a heroic act of passion."

Optimus nodded. "What do I do now?"

"I don't care." Amalga stood up. "I quit being a priestess a long time ago." She started walking away, turning back at the last moment. "But maybe start talking to Shadow Stalker?"

Optimus watched the femme walk away. He slowly got up off the ground. Shadow Stalker didn't seem too keen on looking at him at the moment. Perhaps giving her space first would be a better thing to do.

* * *

Shadow Stalker hadn't gone to her office like she intended. Somehow she had found herself in the training room, which, really wasn't a bad place to be right now. She was angry and volatile and so very confused.

"Start simulation!" she snarled, standing in the middle of the room and glaring at the ceiling.

"Starting simulation," the computerized voice chided back, warriors of all shapes and sizes materializing around the femme as she grabbed her sword from her subspace, rolling her shoulders.

They charged, and the femme threw herself into the motions violently. She swung, parried, side stepped, slashed and stabbed until she was the only thing left remaining. "Again!" she snapped.

The simulation restarted, and Shadow Stalker immersed herself into it. This round seemed to have gone by quicker than the last.

"Again!"

She kept repeating the process until her joints ached, frame heaving with effort until she finally kneeled down on the ground, closing her optics and panting heavily. "End simulation," she murmured, laying her sword on the ground as she leaned back and vented sharply.

A knock echoed from the simulation room's doorway where Optimus stood, a small smile on his face. "Room for one more?"

Shadow Stalker's optics shuttered online as she lifted her head to the Prime, glancing around. She resigned herself to it, no use in being upset. What was done was done. The femme offered a smile to the Prime, pulling herself up and twirling her sword in her servos. "Only if you think you can keep up."

"I'm sure I can." Optimus pulled out his own sword.

"I'll keep you to that," she chuckled, tilting her helm up towards the ceiling. "Start simulation."

The warriors again materialized, flickering to life as Shadow Stalker took up a stance and waited for them to charge.

Optimus glanced back the femme. If there was one thing he knew the femme enjoyed it was fighting. It was probably the only way to get her to talk to him as well. "I hope you don't run away mid match." He poked at the femme's pride.

Shadow Stalker shot him a look and a sly smile over her shoulder. "Where would I run off to? The room is awfully small and you already take up half of it, big guy. Besides, someone needs to pull your weight, right?" she shot right back with a purr, charging forward as the targets lunged at her.

Optimus smirked, lunging forward and slicing through one of the simulated warriors. "The only one pulling my weight is Prowl, and that's only for the piles of Data pads I have, what's your excuse?"

"Oh y'know, been occupied hanging from a dingy ceiling and slag," she replied absently, leaping up and using the Prime's shoulders as a springboard. "On your six." The femme landed softly and thrust her sword through one of the warriors trying to sneak up on the Prime.

As the femme was taking care of his back, he swept his leg under a warrior who was posed to strike Shadow. "Perhaps take care of yours before taking care of mine."

Shadow dropped her guard and turned, antennae perking forward as she gave a small shrug. "Alright then, touche on that one."

"Dropping your guard in combat? Are you slipping?" Optimus smirked stabbing his sword through another simulation's helm.

"You tell me," she murmured, parrying a blow at her side as she stepped to the side and shot forward, slicing her sword through the hologram's neck as it fizzled away. The femme paused, venting sharply as she surveyed the rest of the programmed warriors stalking about. There wasn't too many left now.

Optimus sighed, "About earlier…" He brought his sword up in front of him as one of the warrior cautiously paced in front of him. "I know you believe what I did was wrong, but I firmly stand by my choice."

"I don't think it was wrong," Shadow stated, gnawing on her lip as she blocked a particularly aggressive warrior's advanced. "But I don't think it was right. Saving a squadron? Good. Sending the Wreckers of all bots and Jazz's Spec Ops on a rescue mission just because of me? Not so good. Am I glad to be here? With all my spark. Just, if it happens again, please use your helm instead of your spark, Optimus."

The femme made a quick maneuver and stabbed at the hologram, which rolled to the side and came at her again.

Optimus swept his leg under Shadow Stalker stabbing the warrior as Shadow Stalker hit the ground. "I won't promise anything."

She huffed, rubbing her aft with a pout. "Foul play is afoot," she muttered, remaining on the ground as she just opted to throw her sword at the last hologram to impale it. The simulation ended, leaving the two under the subtle glowing lights of the room. "Optimus, I am merely a soldier. You can't spend an army on me."

"You are not merely a soldier. I can think of a million excuses to send the entirety of the Wreckers after you." Optimus held his sword by his side. "You are a high ranking commander with sensitive Autobot information."

Shadow Stalker flopped down onto her back with a huff. "I don't think how you are in a berth constitutes as sensitive Autobot information, Prime."

"You read almost every data pad that crosses my desk. Red Alert files more complaints of how much a security risk you are than any other bot." Optimus sighed. "You will not change my processor on this."

That earned an amused snort from the femme. Red Alert complaining about her being a security risk. Between her and the twins, she wasn't sure who put the poor mech in Med Bay for the most spazz attacks. "You're hopeless, Prime, I hope you know that," Shadow Stalker murmured fondly.

"I am aware."

The femme propped herself up on her elbows, looking up at the other with an amused smirk. "So, do I get my proper welcome back now?"

Optimus smirked. "Your welcome back is on your desk. You have tons of gifts specially from me."

Shadow flopped back down on her back and slung an arm over her optics. "Optimus fragging Prime, I swear to Primus, if they're datapads, I'm becoming a renewed virgin."

"Congratulations for your new virginity." Optimus stood over Shadow Stalker.

"Frag me," she groaned, moving her arm to glare up at him. "You'll have to drag me back then. Or, better yet, remember all those times I forged your datapads?"

"I have my own data pads. Worrying about you doesn't help with my productivity." Optimus held out a servo to the femme. "No rest for the weary."

"The weary wants a simple joor to rest. Is that too much to ask?" Shadow Stalker whined. She took the servo to haul herself up, only to play the same dirty trick Prime had got her with earlier by swiping his legs out from under him. The femme grinned down, wings and antennae perked as she stood over the mech. "My my, how'd you get down there?"

Optimus shrugged. "Maybe it was a Wrecker priestess. She's been causing trouble lately."

The femme huffed, shooting him a dirty look as she sat down on his torso. "Rude," she muttered, leaning down to give him a quick peck on the lips before nuzzling her helm into his neck. "I love you."

Optimus smiled. "I love you too, Shadow Stalker."


End file.
